The Road of Life and Its Many Detours
by Gigabomb
Summary: Young sannin fic. Jiraiya watches his friends slip away from him and knows he can't do anything about it, but the second time around he tries anyway. Unfortunately, he isn't very persuasive, and Orochimaru doesn't listen.


Author's Note: This is the longest of my young sannin stories so far (though young is relative, because in this they are thirty-five, then thirty-eight, respectively.) It's also the most depressing. And Jiraiya-centric, in direct contrast to the last one, as this is from Jiraiya's point of view contemplating Orochimaru with only references to Tsunade, while the last was from Tsunade's point of view contemplating Orochimaru with only references to Jiraiya. Orochimaru is my favorite of the sannin, but I am incapable of writing from his point of view because so much of what he does is inexplicable, at least to me. Someone requested another sannin fic, and though I actually had started on one with the sannin around ten, it lost steam and sort of died. The request was what spurred this one on. I've reformatted this a bit to make the time shift a little more apparent, because keep in mind, in the first sequence they are thirty-five, in the second and third they are thirty-eight, though the third sequence takes place about two weeks after the second.

**That was then...**

He had expected to find him here. Orochimaru wasn't the time to dwell on past occurrences, past wrongs, but recent circumstances had probably made his friend more inclined to think about the may-have-beens and what-ifs. Before, Tsunade had been the brooder of their little triad, and Orochimaru was more suited to fill the gap than Jiraiya. Not that he was going to let the whole deal slide. The longer one let Orochimaru slip into depression, the harder it was to drag him out of it. Preemptive action was something Jiraiya had learned more from such instances of broodiness than any battle situation.

"Hey, genius, why are you so fond of the river all of a sudden? You never seemed to like it much before." Genius. It was an old, familiar joke that had lost its bite decades ago, but Jiraiya continued out of habit and Orochimaru had long since stopped trying to dissuade him. They were all equally stubborn, one way or another, but Orochimaru didn't care and Jiraiya did, and it wasn't so much a victory as a study in perseverance. It wasn't the river Orochimaru was looking at anyway, if he was looking at anything.

On the surface, their conversations held no more depth to them then they had thirty years ago, back when they were still young and somewhat immature and didn't like each other and didn't know each other and didn't want either. But Orochimaru knew Jiraiya knew it wasn't the river he was interested in, and Jiraiya knew Orochimaru knew, and so on. It was only a question if you took it at face value, a caustic remark if the relationship of the two men involved was unknown. They had been comrades since early childhood, best friends almost that long, but the comradery was fading. So was the friendship. Jiraiya wished it wasn't, but for once the reasons for the failing ties between them wasn't his fault and he couldn't change what was happening, no matter what he wanted. Orochimaru didn't have much more control over the circumstances then he did. Despite the fact that the distance had grown as a result of Orochimaru's desire, some things were too deeply ingrained in the dark-haired shinobi for him to have much say in his own emotions anymore.

"This is where Tsunade first spoke with Dan. It is peaceful here. I can see why she liked it so much." Shit. It looked like he was too late to stop Orochimaru from slipping. It was always a bad sign when the prodigy began to wax nostalgia, especially about a subject that neither of them were fond of. Both he and Orochimaru hadn't liked Dan. This antipathy wasn't the chuunin's fault. Dan had just been unfortunate enough to be bland and untalented and have a girl interested in him with two overprotective and critical friends. It was only to spare Tsunade's feelings that when she had come back, eyes empty and drenched with blood and rain, that Jiraiya had held back a "good riddance," until she was asleep in her bed, exhausted from her grief and the hours spent trudging back to Konoha. For once, Orochimaru had shown similar tact, and neither of them spoke of the incident until they were both drunk in some scummy bar and depressed beyond all reasonable measure. That night, Jiraiya had hated Dan, had despised the deceased chuunin with all the fiber of his being. Jiraiya couldn't really hate Dan for dying. The man's death was a result of a foolish decision, true, but he hadn't been suicidal and hadn't deliberately been trying to cause anyone pain. But he had made Tsunade cry, and afterwards, her eyes had never gained back their natural fire. That looked to have been put out forever. And he could hate him for that.

Orochimaru, for whatever reason, had decided to blame himself for the whole situation, and he was unfortunately a rather depressing drunk. He also possessed a distressingly low alcohol tolerance, and for once it was Jiraiya dragging his comrade back to his apartment instead of the other way around.

Tsunade never retrieved her spirit. She continued to impart whatever medical wisdom she could on those willing to listen, but the medic-nin gained an abhorrence for blood and started to grow pale at the sight of it. Her capacity to complete missions disappeared entirely, reducing the Three to Two.

Tsunade didn't leave Konoha for almost a dozen years. But she had never truly returned from the site where her lover died. The Tsunade they both knew was gone. Her taking an indefinite leave-of-absence from her duties just finally drove it home. Before, Jiraiya had always felt that he was the odd one out, felt that Orochimaru liked Tsunade, respected her, more than Jiraiya. Orochimaru was the one who knew Tsunade best of all. After the incident, everything changed. Since Tsunade's collapse, Orochimaru and Jiraiya had made it a habit to go on missions with each other and no one else as often as possible, the more dangerous the better, even if it meant leaving their students' progress in the hands of someone else for a while. Taking such assignments with no medic-nin along was the height of foolishness, but Jiraiya was notoriously durable and Orochimaru scared people, and they were both so violently misanthropic that Sandaime allowed it, if only to spare those who were unlucky enough to be the chosen healer. They grew closer as a result, and in a moment of uncharacteristic candidness, Orochimaru had offhandedly responded to Jiraiya's angry questioning of why the prodigy hassled him so much.

"You're my best friend, Jiraiya. I thought best friends were supposed to give each other constant grief."

The statement had startled him. Orochimaru hated people even more than he did. He hadn't known that the dark-haired man made exceptions about such things. He hadn't expected Orochimaru to be contrary in the nice sort of way for once. He couldn't say that he didn't like the change.

It had been almost exactly one year since Tsunade had left Leaf Village, presumably forever. Orochimaru had blamed himself for Tsunade's grief twelve years ago. He blamed Tsunade for his own. Jiraiya was rather confused with the logic of this, but further questioning just made it clear how deeply Orochimaru had forsaken Tsunade from his heart. He considered the medic-nin, once his dearest friend and closest confidant, a traitor of the highest order. Merely mentioning her name brought a curse to the prodigy's lips. Jiraiya took notice, and he couldn't blame his friend. The blonde shinobi's departure had struck a cord of betrayal in him as well, and forgiveness would be a long time in coming for such a harsh transgression, if such forgiveness ever came at all. He never mentioned Tsunade again. Her name hadn't even been spoken. Until today.

"The river might be peaceful, but who ever said Tsunade had good taste in anything? She dressed like she was colorblind, drank like a fish, and she chose boyfriends that had all the grit and personality of tofu." It was amazing how easy it was to slip back into old patterns, joking about each other's fallacies, deriding each other's faults. Deep and cutting insults that meant nothing, had stopped hurting so long ago that Jiraiya couldn't remember why he had been so offended as a child when Orochimaru commented on his lack of ability to plan. Slipping back into old patterns was easy. So was referring to Tsunade in the past tense, like they were speaking of a comrade that had left them years ago. Like she had died. Who knew, maybe she had.

Tsunade was only tangentially related to the subject at hand, though. She really wasn't connected in any direct way to what had happened, just in a general sense. Betrayal. Orochimaru's list of precious people had once been three, and a year ago, reduced to two. And only if Jiraiya was lucky would it stay constant at one.

"Yes, Tsunade never could tell a good thing from a bad one. She always wanted things that she needed the least." Orochimaru's eyes were distant. He obviously was only continuing the conversation to pacify Jiraiya, having long since learned that silence only egged the white-haired shinobi on. Orochimaru didn't want to talk about what was bothering him. Jiraiya didn't care. Some things had to be said, and he might as well be the one to say them.

"Sarutobi-sensei chose wrong today."

Orochimaru finally turned to look at him. The man had luckily gained some masculine features in his late teens, so he was no longer mistaken for a woman unless viewed from the back. He was still unusually feminine though, and hadn't seemed to age past twenty or so. Only the eyes revealed his true age, plus perhaps an additional hundred years. Neither of them had been allowed a true childhood, their talent pushing them into assassination missions years younger than other shinobi, and war shoved everyone through their adolescence with startling alacrity. Mentally, emotionally, Jiraiya figured Orochimaru around two-hundred. He was maybe a decade or so younger, dalliances with women and ostentatious pornography allowing him to retain a shred of his youth.

Those eyes, those old, tired eyes, were staring at him now. Distrusting. "Your student. . ."

"He's a good kid. Talented, good-hearted and all that. I know the crap the villagers are jabbering on about. But they aren't a good judge of character. Neither is Sarutobi-sensei. My student is a good shinobi, a great one. He's almost as feared as we are. But he's a terrible choice for Hokage."

Orochimaru snorted. It was a glimpse of his friend that Jiraiya hadn't seen in almost a year, and the sheer relief he felt was disproportionately large to the sound. "You trained the boy."

"He's twenty-three. That's hardly a boy. And yeah, I did train him, but it isn't like we're given the choice of our genin cell. He's inventive, I'll give him that. Even taught me a few tricks."

"Like that's hard."

"Oh, shut up. I'm trying to made a point here."

Orochimaru made a somewhat mocking gesture of apology. Old patterns. Jiraiya hadn't realized how much he loved the old routine. "I'm so sorry. Please, go on."

"Anyway. . . the point is that talent means squat when it combined with a lack of common sense. He's like Dan with a little more grit and a hell of a lot more skill. And he's also disgustingly self-sacrificing. He must have been sleeping the day I gave the lecture on self-preservation, because he doesn't have any. And when you're charged to be the shining hope of a village, that's liable to get you killed really quick. I give him two years, tops, unless he has the sense to refuse. And he doesn't. Sarutobi-sensei's going to be looking for a Godaime really soon, unless I miss my guess."

"I never wanted to be Hokage, Jiraiya. A speech on the inefficiencies of our new Yondaime isn't inspiring a lot of confidence for the future of Konoha."

"It isn't about the position. It's about betrayal of trust. I know you couldn't care less about being Hokage. You hate people and you're happiest when studying some obscure jutsu that no one's even heard about in a hundred years. But you are the best person for the position. You hate people. . . but you love Konoha. And the probability of you killing yourself for some noble cause is about nil. What's the point of electing a young Hokage if they have all the staying power of a rookie genin in the Chuunin Exams?"

"You're not very good at comforting people, Jiraiya. The citizens of this village are terrified of me."

"Well, yeah, but they _respect_ you. You're the Sandaime's protégé, you're the guy who graduated from the academy after six months of instruction, you became a chuunin at _eight_. The only one who's ever beaten that is the Hatake kid, and he's so rigid he'll snap in a few years. More importantly, the other villages respect you. Who would attack us with the Snake Sannin leading Konoha? They'd have to be nuts."

"Jiraiya, I have to go. I have a mission tonight."

"You don't have a-"

But Orochimaru was already gone. Standing there in the dark, hours later, Jiraiya was still cursing the Sandaime. His former sensei had chosen Jiraiya's student for a position that he was wildly unsuited for, and he had alienated his own in the process. Orochimaru never forgave. And he never forgot.

----

**This is now.**

"Orochimaru! Orochimaru, damn it, wait up!"

The dark-haired sannin stopped, so suddenly Jiraiya almost ran into him.

"Orochimaru, where the hell do you think you're going?"

A dark, bitter chuckle. "You can't tell me you haven't heard about my experiments, Jiraiya. Sarutobi-_sensei_ has most likely already sent out the hunter-nins, since he didn't have the strength to finish me off himself. I have no particular desire to wait around for them."

"They won't be coming."

"What?"

"I took them out, about a mile back. Several of my toads are guarding them. I'm the only one here, Orochimaru."

"So you're trying to get yourself exiled as well."

"What? No, I just knocked them out."

"That's not how the council members are going to put it, Jiraiya. Considering how many times you've defied them, you have no friends there. 'Obstruction of justice,' 'assisting a wanted criminal.' Not your wisest move."

"Whoever said I was wise?"

It was then that Orochimaru grew tired of their usual bantering. "What do you want, Jiraiya?"

"I want you to come back."

Another laugh. "This is the perfect opportunity for you Jiraiya. You've always said that given the chance, you would finally prove your superiority. And now you want me to return without a fight? I find that hard to believe."

"I stopped caring about that when we were kids. Orochimaru, just come back with me. Sarutobi-sensei won't-"

"You truly don't understand, do you Jiraiya? I experimented on _humans_, on citizens of Konoha. I pulled them off the streets, took them apart limb by limb until they died. . . one of them was the daughter of that one baker, that girl you so longed for when you were sixteen. I murdered the Leaf's own. Even if Sarutobi-sensei wanted to cover that up, he _couldn't_. And you are naïve to think he would. He is the Hokage after all." Orochimaru's voice turned bitter. "And the Hokage wouldn't put the welfare of the people against the life of one former student, no matter how valuable he once might have been."

The baker's daughter. She had been so pretty, so lively. . . and now she was dead. Jiraiya tried to arouse some anger. He found it more difficult than it should have been. "Why did you do it?"

"Why not? You have said it many times, Jiraiya. I do not care about the people of this village. They are _nothing_ to me. Worse than nothing, they are hindrances, parasites. Humanity as a whole is a blight on this earth. At least under my knife, they have some worth. The advances I have made. . ."

Jiraiya discovered his anger. It ran deeper than he had thought. "Humanity may consist of a bunch of idiots, but that doesn't give you the right to play God!"

"And God doesn't have the right to place the restrictions on us that he has. No matter what you think, no matter what Sarutobi-sensei thinks, I did not start human experimentation as some foolish retaliation against him. I do not plan my life around people that no longer matter Jiraiya, and when he broke his faith with me, I released myself from all ties with him. He is of no more worth to me. But I am sick of death, Jiraiya. I am tired of things fading, worn away to nothing until no one remembers that they ever existed. Entropy is something God forced upon us so we would never attain his might. And I will no longer stand for it."

"Orochimaru. . ."

But Orochimaru continued on like Jiraiya had never spoken. "Did you know, Jiraiya, that no one remembers your brother? No one but you and I. His two teammates are dead, and even Sarutobi-sensei can barely dredge up the memory of his tombstone. No one can recall the sacrifice he made to save Konoha from the Cloud. Tsunade's brother, Dan, my. . . my parents. We speak of never forgetting, but they have already been forgotten. Everything fades away. It shouldn't. And I am going to stop it."

Jiraiya stopped breathing. "You were working on immortality experiments."

"Yes."

"Orochimaru, those are the most forbidden of the shinobi arts! Do you have any idea-"

"I know what social taboos I am breaking. And I no longer care."

"There are some things man is not meant to know, Orochimaru."

"Don't be hypocritical, Jiraiya, and don't tell me platitudes that you yourself don't believe in. You would jump at the chance to bring your brother back, to resurrect your parents so you could finally meet them. Anyone would. Most are simply not willing to take that final step, to go against their cultural conditioning in such a way. But I will end the circle, Jiraiya." It was then Orochimaru met his eyes. As always, they looked ancient far beyond their years, but there was now a fervor in them that almost made the golden pupils shine through the gloom. "Are you going to try and stop me, Jiraiya?"

They were all equally stubborn, one way or another, but Orochimaru cared and Jiraiya couldn't, because the only precious person he had left was standing right in front of him, and him leaving was more important than the deaths of all the people Orochimaru experimented on put together, even if it really wasn't. But such things couldn't be weighed on a scale, because his favorite student was dead from Sarutobi-sensei's bad judgment, and Orochimaru was leaving because apparently he believed there wasn't anything left to stick around for, even if there was. And Tsunade was gone, had left for good four years ago and if wasn't for the pictures Jiraiya couldn't be sure he could remember what she looked like, which just proved Orochimaru's point, really. Because the memory of his brother's sacrifice was all that kept Jiraiya going sometimes, and the thought of _that_ fading away chilled him down to the bone. And some part of him agreed with Orochimaru, that death wasn't something that God should decide, because it hurt so many people so badly, and scarred others, and broke some souls beyond all repair. He knew this was wrong. But at the moment, he couldn't remember why.

"No, I won't stop you." ((I just want to come with you.))

And because they had once been best friends, because part of them still were, Orochimaru knew what he was thinking, and shot him a grin that brought back all the childhood memories that would have best stayed forgotten. "You are a fool, Jiraiya."

And once again, Jiraiya was left alone, standing in the dark. It was there he stayed until the second wave of hunter-nins came upon him.

----

**And then everything fell apart.**

The look the Sandaime gave him was steady. Only the eyes, dark and filled with pain, revealed the turmoil inside his former teacher. Jiraiya couldn't bring himself to care. He had too much pain of his own to deal with to think about someone else's grief.

"So, you wish to be leaving us."

"Yes."

"You do realize that in taking such an action, you will be renouncing all protection and privileges given to you as a Konoha shinobi."

"If there were any, I sure haven't noticed. Just sign the papers and let me leave, old man."

One of the council members shot to her feet. "You are still under severe restriction for assisting in the escape of a wanted criminal. Watch your tongue, Jiraiya."

God, Orochimaru had sure pinned that one. Of course, as a prediction it still wasn't that impressive. If the council was anything, it was predictable in its vindictiveness, vicious when crossed, and it hadn't liked Jiraiya to begin with. Who cared, Jiraiya didn't like them either. And he no longer had to listen to their thinly veiled barbs. "This isn't any of your concern."

The old woman's eyes widened. Her mouth opened in preparation for a scathing retort, but when Jiraiya met her eyes, his own so empty of anything remotely human, her words died in her mouth and she almost choked on them. He had learned more than a few techniques from Orochimaru, and he no longer cared. When one had nothing left to lose, there was nothing left to stand in your way.

Sarutobi was still looking at him. He hadn't signed Jiraiya' release papers. "Well, what are you waiting for? Get on with it, geezer. I have things to do."

"Why are you choosing to leave us, Jiraiya?"

"There's nothing keeping me here."

"The Yondaime is over one year dead. It is time for a new Hokage, Jiraiya."

"You should have gotten it right the first time around. You're a little late to listen to me now, old man. You sure didn't heed my advice with my student, and I'm not in the habit of repeating myself."

"I am asking you to become the Fifth, Jiraiya."

The words took a second to sink in. Jiraiya. . . had never considered the possibility. When the topic came up, it had always seemed a thousand times more likely that Tsunade, the granddaughter of the First, or Orochimaru, brilliant and feared, would assume the mantle as village champion. And now the position was being offered to him. Jiraiya wanted to choke on the hypocrisy of it.

"I refuse to be a last resort, old man. I refuse to be a backup because you fucked up with Orochimaru. I'm getting out of here. There's nothing left for me in this village, and I'm not willing to stick around to protect trash."

Now there was more than one council member on his feet, but they were all saying approximately the same thing. "How _dare_ you. . ."

"Sign the papers, old man. One way or another, I'm leaving this village, and you don't want another of the Three as a missing-nin. From one I've heard, Orochimaru alone is too much for you to handle." Something in his former teacher's eyes died, as he listened to his student's words, the scathing comments of what had once been the happiest and most headstrong of his pupils. But he signed the papers. And that was all that mattered, because everything else of worth was long since gone.


End file.
